


In the Dark

by Stacy LA Stronach (slashgirl)



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-27
Updated: 2007-10-27
Packaged: 2017-10-10 21:52:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/104694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashgirl/pseuds/Stacy%20LA%20Stronach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vampire!Hotch</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> spook_me Prompts: Vampire, "The Creature Walks Among Us", "Phantom of the Rue Morgue"   
> all_hallows_fic (to be posted there Oct.30) Theme prompt: "Lie to me"   
> psych_30: Prompt 9 Sociopath  
> wtf27: Prompt 009 Supernatural creatures  
> A/N: This fic was written for the above listed challenges (and will be posted on those comms) and will also be posted on bau_fic and cm_slash Apologies to those who get it more than once.

"The strength of the vampire is that people will not believe in him."—Garrett Fort

"I should like to lie at your feet and die in your arms."—Voltaire

 

Near Virginia Beach, Virginia

"I created you!"

"I didn't ask for this!"

"You didn't say no, either, Aaron."

"It's not like I was in any position to say no, Andrew," Aaron Hotchner glares at his companion, brown eyes hard and full of barely contained fury. "What is it you always say to me? That you want what you want and you get what you want."

Andrew Wheeler snorts, running a hand through his long black hair. "It doesn't really matter now, does it? What's done is done." He pauses for a moment. "You can't leave, I won't let you!"

Hotch chuckles, shaking his head. "Go on, try to stop me," he says, walking toward the door. He feels Wheeler reaching out to him psychically, trying to restrain him. Hotch closes his eyes for a moment and pushes Wheeler's energy back at him with the added force of his own, making Wheeler stagger back against the wall. Hotch laughs outright at his shocked expression. "While you were out seducing pretty young things, I was reading through some of the more interesting books in your library…and practising."

Wheeler stands up, but doesn't try to approach Hotch. "But you went hunting with me—"

"Not as often as you'd've liked, Andrew. I didn't do it as a whim or for the sake of it. I only hunted when I needed to, not for fun. You can't stop me. I'm leaving…and please, don't try to follow me or find me. We'll both be much happier if you leave me alone." Hotch walks out the door; he keeps his guard up, he wouldn't put it past Andrew to attack him while his back is turned. Reaching out with his mind, he can sense that Andrew's still in the house, still in shock over Hotch's revolt.

Hotch walks down the front steps to his car. He smiles. One other thing he'd learned and that was how to hack computers, more specifically, he'd hacked a few of Andrew's many bank accounts and siphoned off enough money to keep him going for decades. Hell, if he invests it wisely, it will last him centuries. He doubts Andrew will even notice the few million that's missing and if he does, Hotch figures that he deserves the money—meagre compensation for everything he's lost.

Driving down the road, his mind slips back to the first few days after Andrew had turned him. He'd been weak from the pain of whatever transformative process was turning him into a vampire. By the time he'd regained his strength, Andrew had already taken Hotch's life away. When Hotch had become angry at what Wheeler had done, Wheeler had smirked at him, telling him that there was no choice. After all, Hotch could no longer work effectively as the leader of the BAU and that it was better that Jack think his father dead—it would be too difficult to explain why Daddy could only visit him at night.

Hotch forces his thoughts away from what he's lost. One thing he's never told Wheeler is that he's visited his son—granted, the boy had been sound asleep and never knew Hotch was there. But Hotch couldn't stand to not see him. At least he didn't have to worry about Haley and Jack having enough money—Hotch had had a generous life insurance policy and because he'd died while on duty, they'd get some benefits. Of course, all the money in the world wouldn't compensate Jack for growing up without his father.

Reaching over, he turns the car stereo on, putting in the latest Bruce Springsteen CD and lets the music distract his thoughts as he drives down the road.

Charleston, South Carolina  
2 weeks later  
Darren Skoke glances nervously down the alley and doesn't see anyone. The email, which had been from one of his "fans", had directed him to go to the end of the alley and go to the door of the building that is on the left.

He looks up and down the quiet street before walking into the alley. The half waning moon allows him enough light to make out the dumpsters and piles of trash that line the alleyway. Skoke shivers as a cloud passes in front of the moon, cutting off what little illumination he has.

"Shit," he mutters and pauses for a moment, looking over his shoulder, sure that he's hearing footsteps behind him, but he sees no one. After a moment, he continues until he's standing in front of the door. He reaches out to knock, but before he can touch the door, someone speaks from behind him.

"You won't find what you're looking for in there."

Skoke whirls around, startled. The other man is tall and of medium build with dark hair and dark eyes. "Who are you?"

The smile on the other man's face is sharp. "Why, Darren, I'm your number 1 fan."

"Thanks. So, where will I find what I'm looking for?"

It seems the man's smile gets even sharper. "In Hell," he whispers, while his hands, which move much too fast for Skoke to follow, grab Skoke's head, twisting it and snapping his neck. Skoke doesn't feel the sharp teeth biting into his jugular mere seconds later.

When he's finished with Skoke, his killer picks up the body and takes to the air. He smiles to himself as he flies out to his dump site. Being a vampire means he has no need to use a car and if anyone sees him mid-flight, they'll assume they're hallucinating or that he's a bird or something. They will doubt what their eyes are telling them because it's impossible.

He makes quick work of burying the body before heading back into town and enjoying the rest of his evening.

 

******************   
Hotch walks downtown, heading for one of the few gay bars in Charleston. He's been restless since he woke at sunset; he'd dreamt of Reid while he slept and that always left him feeling…empty. He knows that casual sex with some stranger won't fill that void but it does give him distraction.

He pays the cover charge and goes inside, heading for the bar; he can feel the other patrons watching him—he knows it's not just because he looks good in a tight black t-shirt and leather pants. It's partly a charisma he has now, something about being a vampire and while he doesn't understand it, he certainly uses it.

Hotch orders a Guinness and sips it while he surveys the crowd. Being a vampire has its advantages—one of them being the ability to see in the dark as well as humans can see during the day. His eyes skim over the men on the dance floor and those sitting at the tables and finally to the ones standing at the bar. That's where he spots him, standing by himself at the other end of the bar. Tall and slender, with honey brown, shoulder length hair and green eyes; the eyes aren't right, but he'll do.

Hotch finishes his drink before walking over to the young man; he presses his body against him from the side, and leans in, whispering in his ear, "I want you."

The other man turns around to look at him and smirks. "You do, do you?"

Hotch smiles at him. "Oh, yes, I do." He can smell the man's interest, can see it on his face.

"My name is—"

Shaking his head, Hotch presses a finger against his lips, dragging it down to his chin. "Tonight, your name is Spencer." Before he can reply, Hotch leans in and takes his mouth in hard kiss. 'Spencer' raises his hands and presses them against Hotch's shoulders to push him away. It turns into a caress as Hotch's mouth works against his, tongue sliding into his mouth. 'Spencer' slides his arms around Hotch's neck pulling him closer. Hotch smiles as he pulls back to look at him. "What do you say we go somewhere more…private?"

"I don't even know your name," he says, hesitant.

"Aaron," Hotch replies. He reaches out with his mind and mentally soothes not- Spencer, assuring and convincing him that Hotch is safe and he really does want this.

"Okay," 'Spencer' says. "Your place or mine?"

"Neither, there's a motel we can go to. Do you have a car?"

'Spencer' kisses him before answering. "Yeah. Let's go," he says, taking Hotch's hand and leading him out of the club.

Fifteen minutes later and they're safely behind the door of the cheap motel room. Hotch grabs him, pushing 'Spencer' up against the wall, kissing him and running his hands over his body. He can feel 'Spencer's' erection pressing against his own, and Hotch thrusts his hips, rubbing his cock against 'Spencer's' cock. 'Spencer' moans, head tilting back, exposing his throat to Hotch's mouth.

Kissing and sucking his way down 'Spencer's' throat, Hotch lingers over the pulse point at the base; he can smell the blood and it's turning him on even more. He turns 'Spencer' around and reaches into his own jacket pocket, grabbing the lube and condoms he keeps there and throwing them onto the bed.

As they make their way toward the bed, Hotch and 'Spencer' manage to strip all their clothes off, between kisses and groping. When 'Spencer's' legs hit the bed, Hotch pushes him down and climbs on between his spread legs. He stares at him. "I'm going to fuck you," he says, reaching for the lube and condom. A couple minutes later, he's leaning down kissing 'Spencer' as his slicked up fingers push inside his ass, stretching him.

'Spencer' is groaning and squirming on the bed. "Oh, Christ, just do it, just fuck me, please, Aaron!"

Kneeling up, Hotch grabs his dick and pushes into 'Spencer' in one hard thrust, grunting as he's enveloped in the tight heat of 'Spencer's' ass. He starts fucking him, hard and fast, leaning down to kiss and suck at his neck. "Oh god, Spencer, it feels so fucking good to be inside you, so fucking tight," Hotch murmurs as he reaches down and starts stroking 'Spencer's' cock.

It doesn't take long and Hotch can feel 'Spencer' getting close. His hand on 'Spencer's' cock moves faster, he's fucking him even harder as he sucks on the pulse point of 'Spencer's' neck. "That's it, come for me, Spencer, come for me," he whispers and as the younger man comes, Hotch bites into his neck. 'Spencer' shouts at the dual sensations. Hotch comes as he drinks 'Spencer's' blood, taking only enough to quench his hunger, not enough to kill or harm the young man.

Hotch collapses on top of 'Spencer' and can tell he's passed out. Hotch smiles. It isn't really his Spencer but it will have to do. Climbing out of bed, Hotch gets dressed quickly, he wants to leave before 'Spencer' wakes up; he's ensured, with a little mental trick he picked up from Andrew, that all 'Spencer' will remember about tonight is the fabulous sex.

Hotch leaves the motel room, calling a cab on his cell phone as he walks out onto the sidewalk.

Two months later

Hotch turns on the TV, changing the channel to the local station to get the late news, only paying half attention to it as he sits at his computer, logging in to check his email.

"Another body has been found dumped in the woods just outside of Charleston," the announcer reads, her voice smooth and calm. Hotch swivels in his chair to watch the screen; they're showing film of the scene—police cars and ambulance. "This is the fourth murder in the past two months where the body has been dumped in this area. When asked, police officials say that they haven't identified the latest body and they do not believe that any of the four cases are related. The first body was found almost two months ago and was that of suspected serial killer, Darren Skoke, a Charleston native who was a suspect in the—"

Hotch turns off the TV and frowns. He wonders if the PD really believes they don't have a serial killer on their hands or if they're playing dumb for the press. Given who the victims have been, the general public wouldn't have anything to fear. He also wonders why his team—his former team—haven't been called in yet…and he wonders if _they_ would pick up on the less obvious thread tying these murders together.

Quantico  
4 months later

Spencer Reid reads the files, finishing them shortly after JJ begins her spiel. Reid glances around the table, his eyes drawn to the two empty chairs. It's been eight months but sometimes Reid lifts his gaze and still expects to find Hotch sitting across the table, all dark and brooding seriousness. But Hotch will never do that again…. Eight months ago, Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner was killed in a car accident—his vehicle had hit the edge of the road, rolling down a steep embankment before plunging into a river. His seatbelt had failed and Hotch had been thrown clear of the car, into the swiftly moving current. His body was never recovered.

Reid forces himself to focus on the present, on this meeting and he pushes thoughts of Hotch out of his head. His eyes dart to the other empty chair and he wonders how Rossi is doing; during their last case, he'd been shot in the shoulder which had required minor surgery—he was going to be out for about four weeks. Reid sighs and turns his full attention to JJ.

"…found on the outskirts of town, in a wooded area, buried in shallow graves. There are ten known victims—counting from the time the Charleston PD found the first body. All the victims have three things in common; first, they were all killed by having their throats torn out and then being completely drained of blood; second, all of them are men who were suspected serial killers or rapists. Some were charged but either got off or the charges were dropped for lack of evidence. And, finally, they all notes pinned to their clothes—all said the same thing: 'A gift for you.'" JJ flipped through the pictures of the crime scenes.

"Only two of the victims were from or living in the Charleston area. The rest are from across the country—two from New York, one from LA, one from Chicago, one from Miami, two from DC. Not all of them were living in those jurisdictions when they were suspected or charged with their crimes. Garcia's running background checks on them now, to see if we can figure out why they were even in Charleston."

Morgan frowns. "A gift? For whom? Is it for another serial killer? For the victims of these dead unsubs, maybe? We should probably look at any victims of those scumbags who survived…especially any living in the Charleston area."

"But how is the unsub luring these men to Charleston? He must have something they want, or they think he has something they want," Prentiss says.

Reid clears his throat. "There's no forensic evidence left behind, either. No hair, fingerprints or blood—not even footprints. They didn't get anything off the notes, either. He's got knowledge of police procedure and evidence collection—he could be a cop or an ex-cop."

"And why did they wait so long to call us?" Prentiss asks.

JJ shrugs. "Politics, apparently. The city politicians didn't want to believe they had a serial killer in their midst. Bad for tourism."

Prentiss shakes her head. "You gotta hate politics."

Looking at his watch, Morgan stands. "Okay, we'll review this again on the plane—JJ, get Garcia to check on surviving victims of the unsubs. Wheels up in twenty."

Retrieving his ready bag from his locker, Reid feels that there is something he's missing; something he's read in those files, some pattern or connection that he should've caught but hasn't. He puts it out of his mind for the moment, knowing that not thinking about things will let his brain find the connection he's looking for.

As he settles into his seat on the plane, it hits him. Reid frowns; he can't believe it and pulls out the files to physically review them. He flips through all ten files quickly and sits back in his seat, confused. One or two, he could accept as coincidence, but all ten? As his team mates sit down, Reid speaks. "Hey, guys? I found something—I don't know what it means…."

Morgan looks at him. "What is it?"

"All of the dead men—there's one name in common from the law enforcement side—Aaron Hotchner," Reid says. He looks down at the file in front of him but can feel the rest of the team staring at him.

"Hotch? Could it be coincidence?" Prentiss asks.

"Nah, two or three could be coincidence, but all ten? It's something else. What, I don't know, but not coincidence," Morgan says. "Did you notice any other patterns?" he asks Reid.

"No, not yet. A couple of the cases, Milner and Skoke, were ones that Hotch was a prosecutor on; all the rest are from when he was with the FBI—and all of them cases before you or I were on the team."

"You'd have noticed that sooner. But why would someone be acting as a vigilante in Hotch's name?"

Reid shrugs. "I have no idea. If Hotch was still…alive, I'd say that he's the one the gifts were meant for, but…he's not."

"At least we know it can't _be_ Hotch," JJ says.

"True," Prentiss replies. "But that doesn't help us figure out who it is."

Morgan leads the team through another quick review of the files, but they don't uncover anything new. He checks in with Garcia, who is still working on the background checks and survivors of the dead men; she hasn't found anything yet.

Reid stares out the window. He hates talking or even thinking about Hotch, it still hurts as if he'd died last week instead of eight months ago. Staring out at the clouds, Reid remembers the last time they'd been together outside of work.

Reid curses when he hears the knock on his door. He's not ready yet, but runs out, pulling his t-shirt on and opens the door, smiling at Hotch and Jack.

"Spencer!" Jack says, reaching his arms out.

"Hey, Jack," Spencer replies and takes the three year old from his father's arms. Jack wraps his arms around Spencer's neck and kisses him, sloppily, on the cheek. Spencer returns the embrace before setting Jack down. "I have to go finish getting ready, okay? You wait out here with Daddy, I'll only be a minute."

""kay," Jack says. He runs into the living room and jumps up on the couch beside his father. "Spencer is gettin' ready."

Hotch smiles and wraps an arm around Jack. "Thanks, kiddo," he says. "Spence, don't rush, we've got plenty of time."

"Well, the earlier we get to the zoo, the less crowds we'll have to deal with," Reid replies, walking into the living room and buttoning up his cardigan.

"The crowds won't be that bad. I know, I know Sundays are one of the busiest days at the National Zoo," Hotch says, standing. "But I don't care about the crowds if I'm with you." He walks over to stand in front of Reid, cupping his face before pressing a soft kiss against his mouth, pulling back before Reid can deepen it.

Reid sighs. "Tease," he says, grinning, before turning his attention to Jack. "C'mon, Jack, I'm ready to see the lions and tigers and monkeys, how about you?"

"Zoo!" Jack shouts, making Reid wince. "Let's go!"

They get to the zoo just before eight. Reid and Jack sit on one of the benches, looking at a map of the zoo and picking out the things they both want to see. Jack has what Reid considers to be an unreasonable love of monkeys but as Hotch had reminded him when he mentioned it, Jack is a small boy—and small boys (and girls) tend to love things unreasonably. Reid smiles and helps Jack plot out the route they'll take through the zoo. Being around Jack, even though it's only been a handful of times, has helped Reid to be more comfortable around children in general; he's stop seeing them as some sort of alien creatures.

Reid looks over at Hotch, who is watching them with an almost wistful look on his face. He smiles at Reid and it's so full of love that Reid almost can't bear it; but he does and he smiles back. He's never loved anyone as much as he loves Hotch and it still amazes him, sometimes, that they've ended up together.

They make their way around the zoo and Reid delights in Jack's amazement at seeing the animals, most of which he's only seen in books before. Walking along the paths between the animal enclosures, he and Hotch talk—about everything and nothing; sometimes, talking to Jack who is still excited over the last animals they saw. There are no overt public displays of affection between them—just a casual touch of hands, bumping of shoulders or sometimes, Hotch's hand briefly on the small of his back.

A couple of hours later and the two adults are sitting on a bench, enjoying a snack and resting their feet. Jack is still going strong, climbing over and under and around the bench, until Hotch makes him sit down to eat his ice cream.

A few minutes later, two women with a little girl, sit down on the bench next to them. The women, one blonde, one brunette, are obviously a couple and Reid envies them their openness. He overhears one of them wishing they could find someone to take their picture and he's not surprised when Hotch clears his throat and says, "Excuse me. I'd be willing to take your picture if you wouldn't mind doing the same for us."

The brunette looks at him in surprise, then smiles. "Thank you! And that would be great," she says, handing Hotch her camera as he stands up. "I'm Karen and this is my partner, Julie and our daughter, Sarah."

Hotch shakes their hands, while Reid gives them the little wave he does instead of shaking hands. "I'm Aaron—that's my boyfriend, Spencer, with my son, Jack." He waits while the women get settled and then takes a couple of pictures of them before handing the camera back.

"Thanks, Aaron," Karen says. "I'll let Julie take your pictures, she's a lot better with those digital things than I am."

Julie laughs. "Yeah, all her pictures tend to come out blurry, but I love her anyway." She takes Hotch's camera and waits for the men to get in position. She takes a couple shots, and then hands the camera back to Hotch.

"Thanks," Hotch says and then looks at the picture on the screen of the camera. Reid leans over and looks at it as well.

"I really like that," Reid says. "It's nice."

Hotch smiles at him. "Yeah, it is." He reaches out and brushes the hair back off Reid's face, fingers lingering briefly on his skin. "Love you."

Reid grins, turning his head and managing to kiss Hotch's palm before he moves his hand away.

The voice of the pilot, asking them to put their seat belts on because of some heavy turbulence, brings Reid out of his reverie. He does up his belt and reaches into the front pocket of his satchel, discretely pulling a copy of that last picture out. He'd had this one printed out on photo paper and laminated. Stroking his thumb over Hotch's smiling face, Reid feels the tears in his eyes. He blinks and rubs his eyes, refusing to give in; the others would want to know what was wrong and he has no intention of telling them. He looks at the picture a moment longer and then puts it away. It was only five days after that picture was taken that Hotch had died.

 

********************   
Two nights later  
Charleston

The team had taken the case and the evidence as far as they could today, so Morgan had ordered them back to the hotel to get some rest. Reid looks around his hotel room and sighs. There's nothing on TV and he's not tired. He grabs the tourist booklet off the table and flips through it, wondering if anything will be open after 9 pm. Other than the clubs nothing, really, but still, he decides to go for a walk, hoping that a little fresh air and some exercise might help him sleep better.

The hotel is in a fairly nice area with plenty of shops and a few restaurants and, Reid notes, smiling, several coffee shops. He stops into one a couple blocks away from the hotel and even though he knows it won't help him sleep, he orders a coffee and a piece of chocolate cream pie.

As he eats, he flips through the local paper, stopping to read articles that catch his attention. He's mid-way through a piece about corruption in the local school board when he hears a familiar voice—one that he shouldn't be hearing.   
Looking in the direction the voice is coming from, Reid feels like he's going to faint or something equally unglamorous, because there, standing at the back of the store, is Aaron Hotchner. Reid stares at the man—he knows Hotch's voice and he knows what he looks like and this is definitely him. Reid knows that logically, it can't be Hotch; Hotch died eight months ago.

Before Hotch notices him, Reid raises his paper. He doesn't call out to him and isn't sure why; perhaps this coffee shop isn't the place to have a reunion with his dead lover.

Hotch is talking to a tall, dark haired, dark complected man. Reid can hear their conversation as they move closer.

"Thank you so much for making sure that got fixed right way, Mr. Gideon," the dark haired man says, his voice heavy with a Greek accent.

Hotch claps the man on the shoulder. "Stavros, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Jason. And it's my duty as landlord to make sure things get fixed when they're broken. Never be afraid to call me, okay?"

Reid nearly spits his coffee out. Jason Gideon? Hotch is calling himself Jason Gideon? He watches the two men shake hands and say goodbye. Reid throws a ten on the counter to cover his bill, telling the waitress to keep the change. He follows "Gideon" out onto the sidewalk and trails him at a discrete distance. Reid isn't sure what he's doing; he wants nothing more than to stop this man and find out what the hell is going on.

After a couple of blocks, he starts to walk faster, and then jogs lightly to try and catch up. "Hotch!" he calls out. Hotch looks back at him and starts to run, turning to his right down an alley. Reid breaks out into a full run and follows him.

He stops a few steps in—it's a dead end and Hotch is not there. Reid _knows_ he saw him turn down here. There are a couple of dumpsters and Reid cautiously checks both of them out and finds no sign of the other man. "Hotch? Where the hell are you, I know it was you!" he whispers. He stands in the alley for a couple of minutes before deciding to head back to the hotel, shoulders slumped.

Reid passes the coffee shop on his way back. It's still open and he goes back in. He scans the room and sees Stavros sitting at a table near the back. He walks over, and says, "Excuse me. You were talking to Jason Gideon earlier, when I was in here. I was wondering if you have his phone number?"

Stavros looks at him suspiciously. "Why do you want his number?"

Reid smiles. "He's an old friend, we lost contact over the years—I tried to catch up with him outside but lost him in the crowd."

"Oh, I see. Of course I can give you his number, just a minute, sir," Stavros pulls a small notebook out of his shirt pocket and flips through a few pages. "Ah, here it is. 555-9431. Do you want to write it down?"

Reid shakes his head. "No, I'm really good at remembering numbers. Thank you," he says.

He walks out of the shop and pulls out his cell phone but decides to use the hotel phone—Hotch might not pick up if he sees Reid's number. Before he can put his phone away, it rings. Looking at the display he sees that it's Morgan and answers it. "Reid."

"Where are you man?"

"I just went for a walk, I'm just a couple blocks from the hotel. Why?"

"There's been another body discovered. We're on our way to the scene, what street are you on?"

"Same as the hotel about a block west of it—"

"Okay, we'll swing by and pick you up, we have to go that way, anyway. You got your man purse?"

Reid rolls his eyes. "Yes, I have my _satchel_."

Morgan laughs. "Whatever. See you in a couple," he says and hangs up.

Reid puts his phone away and continues walking. A couple minutes later, he sees the black SUV coming down the street and walks out near the edge of the sidewalk, waving. Morgan pulls over and Reid hops in the back, next to Prentiss. "JJ called shotgun again?"

"Damn right I did!" JJ says from the front, making everyone laugh.

"So, what do we have?" Reid asks.

"Same thing as before—the body's just been dumped in a different area—the unsub obviously realises we found his other dump sites," Prentiss says.

"Nothing different about this one?"

"Not that we can tell yet."

Reid nods. "Has Garcia come up with anything yet?"

"Yeah, she got nothin'; all the dead unsubs' vics are either dead or not living anywhere near here," Morgan says.

******************   
Hotch watches from the fire escape on the side of one of the buildings as Reid walks out of the alley. He's known his team is in town and he knows why; he just hadn't expected to run into any of them, especially not Reid. He listens, making sure Reid is well away from the alley before he jumps down, landing as quietly as a cat.

Going to the end of the alley, he looks up the sidewalk and spots Reid talking on his cell phone. He can hear the conversation, or at least Reid's side of it. Hotch was planning to leave Reid be, but when he hears that the team is going out to where the latest body was found, he changes his mind.

Hotch steps back into the alley and, closing his eyes, concentrates…within moments, he's a crow. Another advantage to being a vampire, he thinks, as he takes flight, the ability to turn into animals…he can even turn into a mist, which is truly an odd feeling. Hotch has only managed small animals at this point—cats, crows, mice and dogs. The bigger the animal, the more energy it takes to maintain it. He can stay in crow form for half the night if he so desires.

It only takes him a few minutes to fly to the dump site. He finds a tree with a good view of the area and perches on a branch. While he waits, Hotch feels like something is off or out of place, something niggling at the back of his mind. He tries to reach out with his mind and senses, but he's limited in his crow form. Gliding from the branch to the ground, Hotch transforms back to human form and it hits him almost immediately: another vampire's been here and not to long ago, either. He can't explain how he knows or senses it—it's like there's some sort of echo left behind or something is disturbed in the ether. The trace he detects is familiar but he can't place it—he doesn't think it's one of the local vampires, at least, none of the ones he's met.

He stands back in the shadows as the team's SUV pulls in, parking behind the police line next to the cop cars. Watching his former team mates get out of the SUV and start working, Hotch feels a mixture of sadness and envy. He misses being a profiler, misses the thrill of that particular hunt…but Hotch knows he can't go back to that work, not as a vampire.

"Damn, this one is _fresh_," Morgan says, frowning.

Reid is looking around. "You know, this is on the same road as his other dump sites, I thought the cops had road blocks up?"

"They were supposed to. I'll go check with them," JJ says and she walks off to find the officer in charge.

Prentiss is kneeling by the body and with a gloved hand, turns the note so she can read it. "Hey, it's a different message: 'Why are you not acknowledging my gifts? I'm doing this for you, I love you.'" She looks over the rest of the body. "Everything else looks the same. The neck is really ravaged."

"We've assumed the neck is part of his signature—what if he's doing it to hide something?" Reid asks.

"Like what?" Prentiss asks.

"I don't know, exactly, but can we get the coroner to check?"

"Can't hurt," Prentiss replies.

JJ rejoins them. "I just asked, and according to the officers who were manning the road blocks, no one came down this road."

"Then how in the hell did he get the body here?" Morgan asks.

"Maybe he came through the field?" Reid says.

"Maybe, but it wouldn't be easy, he'd need an ATV or something, no way he could carry the body for miles."

"If that's true, then we should be able to find some evidence of it—the path he took," Prentiss says. She looks around. "That's an awful lot of ground to cover."

"It'll be easier to search once it's daylight, less likely to miss any evidence, too. We'll get the PD to start a search tomorrow morning. For right now, we can concentrate on the immediate area," Morgan says.

Hotch feels a chill go through him when he hears what is written on the note. He knows who the killer is and that the team will find no trace of how Wheeler brought the body here. That he hadn't sensed the other vampire was in Charleston disturbs him; Wheeler is the one presence he thought he'd always recognise. That the other vampire hasn't tried to contact him surprises Hotch…and that he'd be so public with these killings…Hotch knows he has to find him and stop him, if he can.

He changes into a crow again and flies back to the city. Hotch checks out the type of places that he knows Wheeler likes but finds nothing. He realises that Wheeler might not be staying in Charleston but nearby. After a couple hours of searching, Hotch is getting tired and knows he won't be able to hold the crow form for much longer and he knows he'll need to feed, replenishing his energy.

Dropping down into an alley behind a dumpster, Hotch transforms back to his human form. He walks out onto the sidewalk and finds that he's across the road from the hotel that the team is staying at. Knowing, even as he crosses the street, that visiting Reid is not a good idea, Hotch can't help himself. He needs to see him.

He walks into the lobby and approaches the front desk. "Excuse me," he says to the young woman behind the desk, "Can you tell me which room Spencer Reid is staying in?"

She smiles at him but is shaking her head. "I'm sorry, sir, but we're not allowed to give out—"

*Now* he mentally commands her. She blinks, then types Reid's name into the computer.

"Mr. Reid is in room 7609," she says, her voice flat.

"Thank you," Hotch says and heads for the elevators. Behind him, the girl shakes her head and he can feel her confusion but Hotch knows she won't remember giving him the number.

Moments later, he's standing outside of Reid's room, with no key to gain entry. Listening, he can tell from Reid's breathing and heart rate that he's sound asleep. Hotch sighs, he hates transforming to mist, it's such a weird sensation but it's the easiest option available to him.

As he solidifies on the other side of the door, Hotch sees Reid sprawled out on his back on top of the covers, stripped down to his boxers. His gaze travels from Reid's face, down the length of his body—and the sight of Reid's near nakedness, the sound of his breathing and the scent of him—all combine to push Hotch into doing something he knows he shouldn't. He wants Spencer, wants to make love with him. When he'd still been human and they'd been dating, they'd never had sex. Hotch hadn't wanted to rush things, even though Spencer was quite willing.

But now, knowing he can make Reid forget…or make him think it's a dream, is what seals his decision. Hotch gets undressed and walks over to sit on the edge of the bed. Reaching out, he cups Spencer's face in his hand; just touching him again, after so long is turning him on. Hotch leans down and starts kissing Reid, lips moving gently over his, tongue licking at the full lips and he feels the moment Reid wakes up. He pulls back to watch him.

Reid looks around, confused. He sees Hotch and he sits up. "Hotch? You—you can't be here, you're _dead_!" he whispers.

"If I'm dead, then this must be a dream," Hotch says, stroking Reid's face with the back of his hand.

Reid still looks confused as the suggestion filters through his consciousness. "A dream? Yes, it must be," he says. He looks at Hotch from under his eyelashes. "I wish it wasn't…I've missed you so much."

Hotch closes his eyes for a moment, wondering if he's doing the right thing. He keeps his eyes closed at the touch of Reid's hand on his face and Hotch gasps as Reid kisses him, softly at first, but it turns to something more with Reid licking at Hotch's lips, pressing his tongue against them. Hotch opens his mouth to Reid, wrapping his arms around him.

Reid groans as their naked chests press together and he slides his arms around Hotch and lies back, pulling Hotch down on top of him. Hotch shifts so that he's between Reid's spread legs. Trailing his hands down Reid's body, Hotch growls when his fingers encounter the thin cotton of Reid's boxers. He breaks their kiss and kneels up, yanking Reid's boxers down, helping the younger man get them off.

Hotch lays back down on top of Reid, resting his weight on his forearms. They spend a long time making out; hands and mouths and tongues exploring, until they're both at a fever pitch.

"Hotch, I want you…inside me, make love to me, please?"

"God, you're so fucking gorgeous and I want you so much, Spence," Hotch says, kissing him, hard. He pulls back, smiling at Reid. "Do you have anything we can use?"

"There's some lube in my bag," he answers, not looking at Hotch.

"You have lube?" Hotch asks, surprised.

Reid's face flushes. "I do like to, um, you know, masturbate," he says, unable to look at Hotch.

Hotch kisses him on the cheek. "Of course," he replies, gently, and moving faster than Reid can track him, grabs the lube from Reid's bag on the other bed. He climbs back between Reid's legs, dropping the tube on the bed beside Reid's hips. Stroking his hands up Reid's legs to his hips, he urges him to move, with Reid planting his feet on the bed, knees bent. Hotch grabs the lube again, opening it and squeezing the cool gel onto his fingers.

Bending down, Hotch sucks the head of Reid's cock into his mouth at the same time he pushes a finger inside of him. Reid gasps at the dual sensation, hips thrusting up, ass pushing down. Hotch works his mouth up and down Reid's shaft, tongue caressing the sensitive underside while he stretches him with first one finger, then two.

"Hotch, oh, please, please, fuck me, do it!" Reid whines breathlessly; his eyes are closed and his head is moving from side to side.

Hotch slides his mouth off Reid's cock and his fingers out of Reid's ass and spreads lube over his own cock before guiding it into Reid's hole. He pushes in slowly, biting his lip to keep from thrusting in too hard.

"Oh, god, more, please," Reid begs, reaching down to grab Hotch's ass in his hands, pulling him closer. Hotch grunts as he pushes all the way into Reid.

It's better than Hotch could ever have imagined, being inside of Reid, making love with him. He starts to thrust in and out of Reid, and reaches down to stroke his cock in counter rhythm. Reid's hands fall to the sheets and he's clenching them tight in his hands; he's moaning and his head is tilted back, exposing the length of his neck to Hotch.

Hotch leans forward, almost overwhelmed with the stimuli: the noises Reid makes as Hotch fucks him; the scent of his arousal; the sight of Reid's body stretched taut…the pounding pulse at his throat…. Hotch leans forward, his mouth sucking on Reid's neck and he can almost taste the blood. He can feel his eye teeth lengthening as they both get closer to orgasm; Hotch flicks his tongue against the smooth skin of Reid's neck. Hotch can tell that Reid is close and he thrusts into Reid faster and harder, his hand tightens on Reid's cock, stroking him almost roughly. "Come for me, Spencer, come for me," he whispers.

Reid cries out as he comes, spurting over Hotch's hand, hips jerking. At the same moment, Hotch bites into Reid's neck and he pushes into Reid, hard, one last time and comes even as he drinks Reid's blood. Hotch moans at the first taste of him for Reid tastes even sweeter than he smells. He only takes enough blood to curb his hunger, he has no wish to hurt Reid. When he's done, he licks at the puncture wounds, and they start to heal, stopping Reid from bleeding to death.

Hotch lays his head on Reid's shoulder and smiles when he feels his lover's arms wrap around him. He can hear Reid's heart beating—it's slow but steady, he'll be fine.

Reid kisses Hotch's forehead. "I love you. Wish you didn't have to leave me again. I want to stay here…forever…." Reid's voice trails off as he falls asleep.

Sighing, Hotch moves up to kiss him on the lips. "I love you, too, Spencer." Hotch lays in Reid's embrace for a few minutes, he doesn't dare stay too long, otherwise, he knows he'll never leave. He extricates himself from Reid's embrace, careful not to wake him, and Hotch gets dressed. He manages to leave the room without looking back at Reid.

**************

Wheeler stares at the dead man lying by his feet. He's getting tired of this cat and mouse game with Aaron. It's become boring. Tricking the police and the FBI has been far too easy. Time to end this idiocy. He turns to the man beside him and smiles. "You'll be infamous, James," Wheeler says.

"Really?" James Whitley asks.

"Oh, yes, really," Wheeler replies. He stares at Whitley and knows that the budding serial killer will easily accept what he's about to plant in his mind. Whitley doesn't even flinch as Wheeler takes control of his mind, implanting his own memories of killing the other serial killers and a false story explaining the notes. He smiles. He knows the police will believe it's Whitley, after all, they're going to find the latest body in Whitley's car.

"James? I'm going to put this body in your car; you'll take it where I told you to and you killed those men, right?"

"Yes, I did—and I enjoyed it."

"Good," Wheeler says, picking up the dead man and putting it in the back seat of Whitley's car and barely covering it with the blankets. He watches Whitley get into the car and drive away. Wheeler smiles as he thinks about what he's going to do next.

***************

Reid wakes slowly, the buzzing of the alarm piercing his sleep. He hits the snooze button and rolls onto his back, wincing at the dull ache in his ass. Frowning, he tries to remember why his ass is sore…and the dream he had about Hotch comes back to him. It had to be a dream, Hotch is dead. But that doesn't explain the ache or the fact that he knows he fell into bed wearing only his boxers and on top of the covers. He's now naked and under the covers. Dreams don't give you a sore ass or make you take your clothes off in the real world. Reid closes his eyes and remembers seeing Hotch at the diner.

All the evidence points to Hotch being alive; his body was never found but Reid can't reconcile Hotch faking his own death with the man he knew Hotch to be. He could think of no reason for Hotch to do so, unless…he might have gone in the Witness Protection Program but that doesn't explain things either. If he'd had to do that (and Reid could think of no reason why he would) then Haley and Jack would've had to go to—even if Hotch and Haley were divorced, something which threatened Hotch would probably be a threat to his family as well.

The alarm buzzes again and Reid sits up, shutting it off and putting thoughts of Hotch out of his head—he'll think about it again after he's had some coffee—he always thinks better with some caffeine.

Reid is finished his morning ablutions and getting ready to go down to the hotel restaurant for breakfast when his phone rings. "Reid."

"Hey, the cops caught our unsub—he was driving to the dump site with a body in the back of his car, we're heading to the station now," Morgan says.

Reid frowns. "Are they sure it's him? He was so careful."

"Everyone makes a mistake eventually, I guess. They want us to help interview him. We're leaving in ten, we'll meet in the lobby."

"Okay," Reid says, shutting his phone. He's relieved that there's enough time for him to grab a coffee before they leave.

It's late afternoon by the time Morgan, Prentiss, and the local detective finish interviewing James Whitley. He gives them the details of all his murders, says they were "gifts" for a woman he'd once loved and who had left him but he doesn't give them her name. Whitley tells them that he has no idea who Aaron Hotchner is and that his connection to the cases is purely coincidence.

Even though Whitley matches the profile, Reid still feels like there's something off with the whole thing. But Whitley's knowledge of the murders, of the notes, a detail not released to the press, means that it has to be him. Of course, serial killers aren't cookie cutter perfect—and something might've happened to throw him off his game. Reid shrugs, guessing this one counted as a win.

Reid starts going through his notes so he can write his report and is startled by the ringing of his phone. He grabs it and looks at the number; for a moment, he doesn't recognise it, then realises it's Hotch's number, the one Stavros from the coffee shop gave him.

He opens his phone. "Hello?"

"Spencer? It's Hotch."

Reid looks around, there are too many people, so he finds an empty meeting room and ducks inside. "What in the hell is going on? You're dead—but I know that was you in my room last night!"

"Shh. Look, I'm sorry I lied to you but I had a good reason. I really want to meet with you and explain things, okay?"

Dropping down into a nearby chair in relief, Reid says, "I doubt there's a good enough reason for making me think you were dead, but, yeah I want to see you again. Where?"

"Can you come over to my place, around seven?" Hotch says, giving Reid the address.

Reid writes it down—he'll remember it better that way. "Yeah, I'll be there. See you then."

"Good, I've missed you Spencer. Goodbye."

Reid hangs up his phone and looks at his watch; he's got two hours to wait—he decides to go out and work on his report, hoping it will keep his mind off of things.

An hour later and Reid is finishing up. He looks at his watch for what seems to be the hundredth time and decides that he'll head out. He walks over to where Morgan is talking to one of the local cops. "Morgan?"

"Yeah, Reid?"

"Um, I need to go out for a couple hours—an old friend of mine who lives here called and wanted to get together for drink. I've got my report done—"

Morgan waves a hand at him. "Go on, kid. We're gonna be flying out around 9, okay?"

Reid smiles. "Okay. Thanks."

"Hey, if you wanna take the SUV…"

"No, I'm not sure how long I'll be there…don't wanna leave you guys without a ride. I'll take a taxi. See ya later," Reid says, waving.

"See ya," Morgan replies, before turning his attention back to his discussion with the cop.

Reid stops at the main desk and asks the cop on duty for the number of a good cab company. He dials the number he's given and is told that a cab will be there in about fifteen minutes. Reid closes his phone and goes outside to wait.

******************   
Hotch awakens early from his day's slumber; it's just past six and he has an appointment with his banker at seven—he wants to arrange a few more investments and seven was the latest the banker was willing to stay at work.

He listens to the news and is surprised to hear that the police have caught the serial killer who was killing serial killers. He snorts in mild amusement when he sees that the man arrested isn't Wheeler—Hotch knows Wheeler had to have had a hand in making this man look like the killer.

Turning off the TV, Hotch is about to sit at his computer when he realises that if Wheeler has given up on killing people—he's probably got another plan he's putting in motion to get Hotch back. Hotch pales. Reid. Wheeler knows that Hotch and Reid were in a relationship when Hotch was still alive and that Hotch still loves Reid. And he'd also know that Reid is here in Charleston with the BAU. Hotch stands quickly, pushing the chair back as he does so. He looks at his watch; Reid and the rest of the team should still be at the police station.

On his way there, Hotch calls and cancels his appointment. Walking into the station, Hotch goes to the main desk. "Excuse me, I'm looking for Special Agent Dr. Reid."

"He's the tall skinny one, isn't he?"

"Yes."

"You missed him, he called a cab and left here almost a half hour ago. Sorry."

"Thanks, I guess I should've called him first," he says, turning around.

He pulls out his phone as if he's going to try and call Reid, but in reality, he's trying to scan the minds of his former team to see if any of them know where Reid is. It's difficult there are so many people here…but he finally locks onto Morgan, sees the memory of Reid telling Morgan about an old friend calling.

Hotch closes his eyes; he was the only old friend Reid had here and he hadn't called him. Wheeler, Hotch realises. Wheeler must've called and fooled Reid into thinking he was Hotch.

Walking outside, Hotch wonders where Wheeler would get Reid to go and that wouldn't make Reid suspicious…. His house, Hotch is willing to bet that Wheeler is meeting Reid at his house. Fuck. Hotch ducks in behind some bushes and transforms into a crow, he can fly home faster than he could walk or drive. He only hopes he's in time to stop Wheeler from doing whatever it is he's planning to do…although Hotch is certain he knows what Wheeler is planning to do: kill Reid.

*****************

Reid arrives at Hotch's house fifteen minutes early; he pays the cabbie and stands on the sidewalk, staring at the house. It's an older, two storey house and it's good neighbourhood. Reid is sure it was expensive and he wonders how a dead man gets enough money to buy a house like this.

He walks up the front steps, hesitating; he's nervous—he knows he shouldn't be, after all, it's still Hotch, he can't have changed that much. Reaching out, he rings the bell. He hears a muted shout of "Come in."

Opening the door, Reid walks in slowly, looking around. The inside is as nice as the outside. "Hotch? Where are you?"

"I'm in the living room, first door on your left—you're early, Spencer."

Reid walks down the hallway into the living room. Hotch is standing by the window, his back to Reid. Reid frowns, there's something not quite right about the man standing at the window…

Wheeler turns around, laughing. "No, I'm not your precious Hotch," he says and his voice sounds just like Hotch's. "Simple mimicry," he says to Reid's unvoiced question.

"Who are you?" Reid demands and he tries to reach for his gun but finds he is unable to. "Where's Hotch?"

"I believe he's at a meeting with his banker. At least, that's what his appointment book says. As to who I am? My name is Andrew Wheeler."

"I don't understand."

Wheeler strolls across the room and lightly cups the side of Reid's face. "I'm sure you don't. Hmm, I can understand why Hotch likes you, you're very pretty."

Reid steps back. "Who _are_ you?"

Wheeler's smile is wide. "I'm the one who turned Hotch into a vampire." He chuckles at Reid's shocked reaction.

"There are no such things as vampires. It's a myth based on folk superstition and a misunderstanding of—" he stops when Wheeler's eye teeth lengthen over his lower lip.

*Really, Dr. Reid, we don't exist?*

Reid stares at Wheeler. He heard the man clearly but his mouth hadn't moved. "What—" is all he manages to get out before Wheeler is grabbing him and pulling him close.

Reid tries to move, but finds he's paralysed. He tries to yell, but his voice comes out as a whisper. "No, please, don't. I don't want to die!" He groans as Wheeler's teeth pierce his skin. Tears fall down his cheeks and he can feel himself growing weaker with each ounce of blood Wheeler takes from him.

******************

Hotch changes to human form a few feet from his front step and lands on his feet. This time, he recognises Wheeler's presence. He hears Reid's quiet cries and kicks his front door in, racing into the living room. Seeing Wheeler at Reid's neck sends Hotch into a rage; he's never been this angry in his life. "WHEELER! Get away from him!"

Wheeler drops Reid's near lifeless body to the floor and laughs at Hotch, Reid's blood smeared around his lips. "He's gone, you're mine now, Aaron! Mine!"

Hotch launches himself at Wheeler, flying through the air. He hits him with such force that it pushes both of them through the large living room window. They land on the ground outside in a pile of shattered glass. Hotch kneels on Wheeler's chest and grabs his head with both hands, twisting his head so hard that it decapitates him.

The shock of what he's done snaps Hotch out of his rage. He throws Wheeler's bloody head away from him and stands up, watching as Wheeler's body withers and falls to dust. He hears Reid's laboured breathing and jumps back through the window and kneels beside Reid.

"Spencer, oh, my god!" Hotch cradles his lover in his arms. "I'm so sorry." Reid's pulse rate and heart beat are so slow as to almost be stopped…Hotch can feel the tears sliding down his cheeks.

"Hotch, please, save me…you…can…please…I love you," Reid whispers.

Hotch stares into Reid's hazel eyes. "You don't know what you're asking."

"I…do…don't…want to…die. Be with…you, please!" Reid begs, his voice even weaker.

Hotch closes his eyes for a moment and he knows he can't refuse Reid. Bring his own wrist up to his mouth, Hotch rips a jagged hole in it with his eye teeth. He presses bleeding wrist against Reid's mouth. At first, he doesn't think Reid will accept it, but then he feels a soft sucking that continues to grow stronger.

After a few minutes, Hotch pulls his wrist away from Reid's mouth, he's had enough. Reid protests for a moment but passes out before he can latch onto Hotch's wrist, again. Hotch remembers from his own conversion that it will take a couple of days for the transformation to be complete—he'll have to drink extra blood; he'll be providing Reid's nourishment as well as his own. He also knows the pain Reid will go through and he wonders if he's done the right thing, if Reid truly understood what he was asking for. Hotch sighs as he tucks Reid into bed. He knows there's no way he could have refused Reid.

Walking back into the living room, Hotch sighs as he looks at the broken window. He really needs to go out and feed but he can't leave Reid here alone with the window like it is. Going outside to the shed, he finds a couple pieces of plywood that will cover up the window and nails them up before going hunting for the night.

He goes to check on Reid before he leaves and hears Reid's cell phone ringing. Picking it up, Hotch sees that it's Morgan.

Hotch knows that Wheeler was able to mimic his voice. Hotch tries it with Reid's voice, speaking aloud in the empty room. It's hard to tell, he thinks he's got it fairly close. If not, hopefully Morgan will buy that they have a bad connection.

"Reid, is that friend of yours okay? Where the hell are you? The plane's taking off in half an hour," Morgan says.

"Sorry. My friend was in a bad way when I got here, I had to take him to the hospital. I need to stay for a couple of days to help him out. I'll catch a flight home on Sunday," Hotch says, hoping this works.

"Sorry about your friend—give me a call if you need anything," Morgan pauses for a moment and Hotch is relieved that the mental trickery is working. He hears Morgan passing Reid's message along to the rest of the team.

"Thanks Morgan, I will."

"See you next week, man."

"Yeah, see you," Hotch says softly, hanging up the phone.

Hotch shuts the phone off before leaning down to give the still sleeping Reid a gentle kiss on the forehead. "I'll be back in a little while," he says. He makes sure all the windows and doors are locked before he leaves.

 

Two weeks later  
Quantico

Reid walks into the bullpen and while it's empty, he can hear the team—they're in the round table room, doing a post case re-cap. He goes to his desk and packs the few personal items he's taking with him into his satchel before walking upstairs. Reid had put in for a two week vacation—now, he's leaving the BAU and wants to say goodbye to his friends in person, not via some impersonal letter, like Gideon had done to them.

He stands in the doorway for a moment, looking at the faces of the people he's come to consider his family. A pang of sadness hits him; he's going to miss them but he knows Hotch is right that there's no way Reid can stay with the BAU as a vampire.

Garcia notices him first. "Reid! You're back!" She jumps up and hurries over, giving him a hug.

Reid hugs her back and then holds up a hand. "Um, look…I'm only here for a few minutes, to get my stuff," he pauses for a moment, then pushes on. "I'm quitting the BAU." They all look at him in surprise.

"Why?" Garcia asks.

"My, um, my mother has gotten worse and I need to be with her. I feel like I'm letting you down and I'm sorry," Reid says. He can't make eye contact with any of them.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Garcia says and hugs him again.

Morgan stares at him. "Reid, why not just take a leave of absence?"

"I thought about that, but I really don't know what's going to happen with Mom," he says with a shrug.

Morgan nods, then walks over to Reid and gives him a very quick hug and then a handshake. "You gotta do what you gotta do, man. You make sure you keep in touch…."

Reid smiles and nods. "I will."

As the rest of team gathers around Reid to say goodbye, Garcia says, "When are you leaving? We should have a going away party for you!"

"Um, actually, my flight is tonight at ten," he says. "I'm sorry," he adds when he sees Garcia's crestfallen look.

She grins. "We'll just have it without you."

They all laugh and Reid knows he'll miss this, miss _them_ …"I really should get going," he says and turns to leave.

Morgan walks with him to the elevator, giving Reid another hug. "If you ever need anything, Reid, and I mean _anything_, you call me, you hear?"

Reid grins. "Yeah, I hear. I'm gonna miss you," Reid says before getting on the elevator.

As the doors shut, Morgan whispers, "Me too, man. Me too."

Reid's eyes are red rimmed when he climbs into the car next to Hotch. "You going to be okay, Spencer?" Hotch asks.

Reid nods, sniffles and wipes at his eyes. "Yeah, I will be…that was harder than I thought'd be. But I couldn't just leave a note behind for them, they deserved to hear it from me in person."

Hotch reaches over and wraps an arm around Reid. "I know it's tough, just be glad you got to say goodbye." He kisses Reid on the temple before starting the car. "Anything else you need or anywhere you want to go before we head out?"

"No, I'm fine," Reid says. He'd lied to Garcia, he wasn't flying out tonight. He and Hotch _were_ going to Las Vegas to see his mother but they were driving, not flying. Reid figures it will be nice to see the country without the urgency of finding a killer, rapist or kidnapper. They were planning to make Vegas their home base and travel around a bit, see the world.

Reid is still getting used to being a vampire. There are so many things that are different, so very few things the same. Even so, he doesn't regret asking Hotch to save him—he's been given a second chance at life and with the man he loves. And as strange as the circumstances might be, Reid wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

"Forever is composed of nows." –Emily Dickinson


End file.
